Turning Tables
by LaceFlower
Summary: What if Katniss wasn't allowed to volunteer for Prim? What would happen if Katniss had to watch the games with Prim competing? From Katniss' point of view, not Prim's. My first fanfic story! Reviews are awesome!
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first ever fanfic! Enjoy, I'd love to hear your opinions, so reviews are loved! **

Those three words are enough to put me through instant shock. I froze my limbs unable to move. Is this some kind of sick joke? No. They would never joke about the games, especially about which tribute is chosen. These games are not just designed for the Capitols entertainment, but to overrun the districts, to show their power over us. There was only one slip of neatly folded paper with the name Primrose Everdeen written inside, among thousands of other names, including twenty of mine. Just as Gale said in the woods earlier, they may have rigged the names in that crystal ball. There's always a lot of controversy when a twelve year olds name is drawn and steps onto the stage. No, not just the stage, but to their almost certain death. The youngest person to ever win the games was 14. The Capitol has written her death sentence by drawing her name out of the crystal ball. Prin steps onto the stage. All you can hear is her footsteps. Nothing more. Effie grabs her hand in order to help her up onto the top of the stage.

"Our newest female tribute, Primrose Everdeen!" Effie says with an obvious tone of excitement. Of course she's excited. I'm sure everyone else in the Capitol is too. I look back at Prim, her eyes filled with terror and horror. And that's all I can handle in one day.

"Prim!" I scream at the top of my lungs, coming back to my senses. My voice echoes throughout the District. After a few mere seconds, the wind carries my voice away, leaving nothing but silence once again. All eyes in the square are pIaced on me. But I don't care what they think of me. I push through the crowd, waving my arms to push people out of the way. There was nothing that could stop me from getting to my sister, to save her precious life. But I was wrong. The peacekeepers take hold of my arms, and I struggle to break free. But as I struggle more and more, their grip tightens.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!" I call out to Effie without hesitation. I never thought I would have to say that. Effie just looks at the in surprise. It's been a while since there has been a volunteer from District twelve.

"That's the spirit!" Effie says excitedly, clapping her hands in delight. But what she was about to say next, she says on a more serious tone. "But unfortunately.." Effie looks at me questionably. But I know what she's asking me, even without words.

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen." I say bravely in reply.

"But unfortunately" Effie repeats, "Katniss, I'm afraid only careers, being Districts one and two can volunteer this year, so I'm afraid I can't let you volunteer." Her face looks down at the slip of paper she is still holding, then back at me. Her face lights up as she realises the connection between our names. She continues, "Even if she's your sister. Sorry!" I know her sorry isn't sincere. I should have known. Rare to find someone in the Capitol who feels for the kids fighting and dying their death in the arena. Shock ruins through me. Again. But why? Why can't I volunteer? Just because the capitol wants Prim to be killed in that arena, along with twenty-two other children around my age? For their entertainment. For drama. For laughs. I've already given them a good show. The first volunteer in District 12 for a long time. Risking my life for my sister. It'd just not fair. The hunger games is not fair. The life the Capitol forces us to live by is not fair.

"Now please, Miss Katniss Everdeen, take your place in line. Thank you." Effie says in a huge smile. Wow, I think she tries to be overly friendly. I don't cooperate, so the peacekeepers start to drag me back to my place. Dust flies everyone as I try to fight back. Not for my life, but for Prim's. When I realise there's nothing else I can do, I silently take my place in the crowd. I wish there was something I could do. Tears well p in my eyes. Nothing I can do. _Nothing._ The president would just destroy her in a blink of an eye, even before the games start. At least she'll have the slightest chance of surviving in that arena. A one-in-twenty-four chance. A better than nothing chance. A glimpse of hope. At least Prim has that.

"Let us pick the boys next!" Effie persists loudly, to get everyone's attention to her. Her fingers wriggle around the crystal ball filled with the male names. Her thumb and forefinger grab a slip, and the name is drawn. Just like that.

"Peeta Mellark." She reads. All eyes point towards the boy who owns the name, and he makes his way calmly up onto the stage. But his eyes say otherwise. Fear, what I so often see in prey. Peeta Mellark – that name. The memory with the burnt bread, the beating, the rain. He didn't even know me, but he gave me a gift I can never repay. I owe this boy, Peeta Mellark.

"Give a big hand to the newest District twelve tributes!" Effie proclaims to the crowd. Not one person claps. I'm not surprised. It's like that every year here. Effie lowers her arms and gives Peeta and Prim a slight nod. They shake hands. The peacekeepers escort them into the building, and the doors close behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

I walk into a room filled with velvet furniture, clean carpet and glass decor. This is the richest place I've ever seen. But, anyway, I've never been outside District twelve. The furthest I've ever been is in me woods surrounding it, but never into another District. The air wafting inside this room is not familiar to me. It's like a stranger. Not like the air outside. It's too clean...too Capitol. I scan the room, looking for Prim. I get my eyes fixed on a luscious red velvet couch, to find Prim sitting there. My feet are like lightning as I run over to Prim. We have to be quick. The peacekeepers don't give us much time. My tears aren't welling to my eyes anymore. They're running down my cheeks. Once I reach her, I notice her eyes are puffy and red. She's already been crying.

"Shh..." I tell her to calm down as I pat her back gently. "You're going to be okay. Don't cry. Don't cry." I continue "You can't go out looking like that." I tell her, jus to cheer her up, trying to get her mind off what's happening at that very moment. But of course, this is the games. No one can forget. Especially if you're a piece in it. A slight smile forms on her face, but it disappears in a flash. I can't bare to see her like this. The last time she was like this, was when...our father died.

"Katniss, I'm so scared. I don't know what to do." Prim says in between sniffles and tears. I wrap my arms around her tightly. It helps a bit. This is the last time I get to see her in person. I'll see her on the screen once she gets to the Capitol, though. But I'd rather she'd be anywhere else but there. I wish my name was drawn out instead. My mother comes over and pulls us both into a hug. I can tell she's crying, too. With her slouched posture, her puffy red eyes and short shallow breaths, there's no mistake.

I can hear loud footsteps outside the door. Probably the peacekeepers. Our time is up. Now I realise what they mean by time is a precious thing. In this case, it's everything. The door creaks loudly as the peacekeepers let themselves in.

"Time's up." The one of the left yells. I can tell they are the peacekeepers that held me back out there while I volunteered. The dirt stains stand out in their cloud-white uniforms. They don't look happy. Both come towards us and start dragging me and my mother out the door. Everything I say to Prim is blurred, but I have to tell her quickly. I hope she understands.

"Run away. Don't get a weapon in the arena. Just run, get food and hide. Last as long as you can! And keep the pin with you!" I get one last glance at Prim. Her blouse untucked, her blonde hair. My only sister. Then the doors slam in front of us. We are told to go home, and that's what we do. There's nothing left for us here. As I step down the stairs, with my mother just a few steps behind me, I see Gale. He's going in to say his goodbyes. Without hesitation, I pull him into a hug.

"I'm...so sorry, Katniss. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me." Gale speaks gently as he pulls away. Then he turns around and heads into the building.

Home. The place where I feel the safest, other than the woods. But there's something wrong. It's just isn't home with Prim. Now I don't feel as safe. She makes her way to the Capitol tomorrow. On the train to her death. I lay in bed, trying to go to sleep. But whenever I close my eyes, I see tormenting visions. Of what could happen to Prim out there. I close my eyes again. Sleep doesn't come easily.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake from one small thought – Prim must be in the Capitol by now. I've slept in. It must be already afternoon by now. I quietly step out of bed; my feet meet the cold floor beneath me. Rays of sunlight drape through the window. It looks warm outside, but the air I'm breathing in has a chilly sensation to it as it trickles up my nose as I breathe in. I notice my mother is up. And then, I see the bed Prim sleeps in. Buttercup is snuggled in a round ball on her bed. He must miss her too. I start to walk out again. I'm only half-way across the room when another thought sweeps into my mind. They are showing the tributes for the first time. Introducing them to the whole of Panem, and the people of the Capitol who are going to bet and sponsor them. I just hope Prim comes out likeable to these people. I feel fully awake now. I find my way into the kitchen, to which I find my mother wiping down our crooked wooden table. Her eyes are somehow glued to the table, as if she was in some type of trance. She's probably thinking of Prim. I know I am, and Buttercup is, too. A simple pair of brown pants sewn by my mother near the hem to stop is from falling apart, and a plain faded blue short. Just my style. I scoop them up with both hands and head back to the bedroom to get changed. I get to see Prim on that screen in the town square shortly.

It's time. My mother and I head to the town square, where a huge television screen is placed above the stage for everyone to see. It must have cost a fortune. But that's nothing to the Capitol. They're rich. We provide and work for them, and they give us nothing. Nothing but the hunger games, run-down land and chances for death. The peacekeepers, the shortage of food and common household items, they just give us a hard life. We take our place in the crowd. This time, we are allowed to sit and watch since the premiere of this goes for quite some time for us to be standing. We're just in time, because after a few moments, the screen is lit up and the channel is switched. The program has started.

"Welcome! Welcome!" The presenter on the screen announces. "What a day we have planned for you! Today, we are presenting you with the tributes of this year's 74th annual hunger games!" He then talks on about the pickings and what he thinks of the tributes. What he says about Prim, I'm not sure what to think. "And, the little girl tribute from District twelve...she doesn't look like a tough one to me. A little adorable. Same with the girl the same age from District eleven. They don't look like fighters but we'll find our soon enough! It's not too often we get more than one twelve year old here!" _That's because you rigged it, duh. _I think to myself.He then rambles on more. I'm just eager to see Prim. Even if it is just on the screen. Finally, he presenter says, "Time to introduce the tributes from District one!" The chariots come from the end of the stadium. The chariots carrying the two tributes from District one emerge. The audience bursts out into claps and cheers. The tributes from one and two are always the favourites. This year, they were all volunteers, the Careers. Then they come out one after the other after they introduce what District they come from, even if they come out in order of numbers. I stare at their breathtaking clothing. They didn't go too crazy with the costumes this year. They are just plain and simple, but beautiful and elegant at the same time. They lose my attention once they announce District twelve. Then I see Prim on the chariot and Peeta Mellark next to her. She looks stunningly beautiful. Her hair is braided, just like at the reaping. But it then rests at the sides of her head, pinned. Her dress is a shimmering dark night blue, sewn with looks like black diamonds, maybe representing the coal mining we do here. But there's something else I notice about the dress. There are flickering lights just above the hem. Peeta seems to have them, too, just at the hem of his jacket. This always happens, everyone from each District is a matching pair. I notice Prim's mockingjay pin. The one I gave to her before the reaping. She wore it. All the tributes, one by one, come to a halt at the end of the track. President Snow, with his white hair, stands from his chair and welcomes the tributes to the Capitol. Once his little speech is over, the screen flicks and the shows over. Just a couple more days until we gather here again to see the interviews. To hear Prim's voice.


	4. Chapter 4

I am now standing in the town square. Again. Today is the day of the interviews. Before the games every year, they interview all the tributes. This is pretty important for them. This is the time they have to impress the people of Panem to sponsor them. Sponsors can mean the difference between life and death for Prim. She needs to make an impression. I just hope that Panem will open their hearts to her.

"Good afternoon, citizens of Panem! What we have in store of you today!" The host says. As he says this, his face lights up. The funny thing is, he's not in Capitol-style clothes. Just a dark blue suit that matches his midnight-blue eyes. His brown hair is combed back and shiny. "Let's see the scores first!"Then I remember about the scores. Each tribute is assessed on their skills that they could use to survive in the arena, whether it would be using weapons, or demonstrating other skills such as hiding or physical fitness. The gamemakers assess these sessions. Each tribute is marked on a scale of one to twelve. One being the worst, and twelve being the best there can be.

Suddenly, the girl from District one appears on the screen. Just below her picture, white numbers appear in big, bold letters. This girl got a ten. That is amazingly good. Really good. After around ten seconds, the screen switches to shots of her using a spear, handling a knife, and running. That's what she must have shown the gamemakers what she could do. They then move on to show all the other tributes scores. A range of scores from eight to ten pop up. They must have a fighter bunch this year. Even the little girl, whose Prim's age, from District eleven got an eight. But what worries me most...is the boy from District two. He got an eleven. And he looks brutal and I'm sure he'll fish up a lot of sponsors. Also the boy from District eleven. Prim needs to step it up if she wants to come home, especially because her opponents are so much bigger than her.

Then, out of nowhere, Prim's picture comes up. I must have tuned out. I froze my eyes completely on the screen. Her score then appears. It's a four. I know she must have tried her hardest, but she got the lowest score in the games by far. A four won't get you much sponsors, let alone fans. But I'm a fan in my own heart. I just want her to come home. Shots of what she showed the gamemakers come up next. The first is her demonstrating her healing techniques. Then she showed them show she could climb trees. Understandable. She learnt all the healing techniques from our mother, whom Prim helped heal wounded miners. And, that she used to love to climb the larger oak tree in the school yard when she was younger. But what chance does a little twelve year old girl have against al those tributes with those higher scores then her, and those who tower over her. By age and by height, and build. I know what to think of her chances now. I'm losing hope. I probably will lose my little sister.

"That's all the scores! Pretty high this year! Hard decisions you viewers have to make! Except for that four..but the little girl from District twelve...Primrose, her name is." I'm surprised her addressed her by her name. They don't usually do that. I'm not even sure that's a good or bad thing. He continues. "But she can work on that, can't she? Now...you know what it's time for!"

Yes. I do know what it's time for. The interviews.


	5. Chapter 5

All the interviews pass with flying colours. All the attire they wear – it's just amazing. The stylists that design and make them must be super talented. I wouldn't kill to get into those dresses, though. They are just not...me. I'd wear them if I had to, though. Everyone seemed so calm and relaxed on stage. Even the tribute from District eleven, Rue, was pretty good, too. I finally learnt all the tributes names today, but some just don't stick in my mind.

"Give it up for the tribute from District Twelve! Primrose Everdeen!" Caesar Flickerman announces. As he says her name, he rolls it on his tongue, creating an effect that makes everyone feel excited. I guess he's good at that. It's his job. But I've always wondered if he gets traumatised that he talks to these people, and all but one will be dead in a couple of weeks. I see Prim walk steadily onto the stage. All eyes turn into her direction, on screen and here, in District twelve. Her dress, once again, is stunning. Her designer has gone for the same theme before on the chariots, only this time, her dress trails behind her as she walks. The dress seems to glitter as different points of light reflect upon it. On her head sits a black tiara. There's blue glitter in her hair, too. It matches nicely as it stands out in her braided long, blonde hair. Braids really match her well. I guess that's why she in them again. She takes her seat opposite to Caesar.

"Welcome to the Capitol, Miss Primrose Everdeen. How have you enjoyed your stay so far?" Caesar asks. Prim looks down at her glimmering shoes, and then back up at Caesar.

"Well," Prim starts off. "I really love the buildings here. So very different to where I live in the Seam. Also the food. I've never had this much before. It's kind of nice for a change."

"Ah, yes! That's what everyone feels when they come here from somewhere else, huh?" Caesar replies in a questioning voice.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Prim says with a laugh. She's doing surprisingly well. I'm wouldn't be able to talk to people like that. Especially because of the fact they are betting on how long the tributes will live.

"So, tell me. That teenage girl who tried to volunteer for you at the reaping...your sister, am I right?"

"Yes." Prim replies to Caesar. She's looking slightly uncomfortable now. She misses me. But she must know I miss her more. And that she has to come home. "She was my sister. She really shouldn't have."

"That was very brave of her. She must love you very much. It's not too common to see something like that at reaping days. Don't you agree?" He points the question out to the audience by looking at them directly and nodding, not a Prim. The audience respond with a mixture of 'no's, shrugs and shakes of their heads.

"She does." Prim states simply.

"Surprising enough, you don't have many features that are the same. I mean, your blonde hair, her brown hair. Her grey eyes and your bright blue eyes. Care to explain?"

"Uh...to say it simply, I look like my mother, she looks like my father." Prim says. Her feet are shuffling from side to side, showing how she feels even more uncomfortable.

"Your mother and father, they must be proud of you, standing here in front of an audience. Bet they're watching right now." Caesar says as he tones it down a little.

"My mother is watching from District twelve right now, she should be. " Prim explains.

"And your father? What about him?"

"He's watching from heaven." Prim says. You can tell now she may cry soon enough. The audience feel empathy for her, showing this is sighs and 'aw' sounds. Surprising. They can watch these tributes die every year. What's the difference? But, it is quite different...I miss my father.

"He still must be proud." Caesar states, as the buzzer goes off. "Time's up! Thank you for being here, Primrose. Good luck!" He says. Prim gives a little nod in thanks and heads off the stage, behind the curtains, her dress trailing her every move. That's all for now. She was the last interview.

The next time I see her, she'll be in the arena. Now for the Capitol, the real fun begins.


	6. Chapter 6

I've been dreading this day. But it had to come sometime. But, unfortunatly, today is that day. The real fun is starting today. The real thing. The 74th annual Hunger Games.

I sit there, my old cheap television sitting in front of me. My mother is sitting beside me. I'm sure she's been dreading the arrival of this day too. Two families in the district are going through this, and we are one of them, along with the Mellark family.

"Welcome to the annual 74th Hunger Games! The moment you've all been waiting for! The real games are about to start, airing on live 24/7 until we have a victor. Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds; be ever in your favour!" Caesar Flickerman announces. He's sitting at a long polished wooden desk. He appears to be wearing the same outfit he wore at the interviews. I ever wonder what happened to the host before...who knows what the Capitol may have done to him.

The cameras show a bird's eye view of the area. All I see is green. Everywhere. It's the woods. Trees stand, rooted randomly in different areas. Just like the real thing. But it's not. It's a death arena. I would have a chance in that arena! Why couldn't it have been me in there?

The panels arise from the ground around the silver horn shaped dome called the Cornucopia. I see all the heads of the tributes emerge. Then their bodies, until they are fully in the arena, standing on their individual panels. I spot Prim. They do close ups of a few of the tributes faces, including Prims. She's looking around, terrified. I hope she takes on my advice to run straight into the woods. She'll survive longer that way. She doesn't need a weapon- for now. They also display the faces of the other twelve year old girl, Rue. She looks she is feeling the same emotions as Prim. The faces of the vicious looking volunteers of District 1 and 2 show. Their eyes...they look bloodthirsty. Excited. Trilled and eager to kill. What do you expect? They've been spending their whole lives training for this very moment. Eager to risk their lives, for, if they win, it is considered a huge honour. But not just for the honour, for the riches and fame.

The countdown begins. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...They are down to the last few seconds. My heart is racing. Prim needs to come home! 3...2...1. Then the horn blows. It's a complete mess. Everyone is running to get supplies and weapons. All are egar to survive. But some don't make it. They are down. _Already. _

The camera is flying everywhere, trying to capture all the action. And the deaths of those who have fallen in the first minute. I just hope among those lifeless bodies, Prim is not present. The camera catches a glimpse of her running into the woods, the safety of the trees. But who knows what the gamemakers have put in there, what surprises they have in store for this years tributes. But I'm so glad she has taken my advice. To run away. To hide for now. Now she needs to find food and water. Shelter, too. That's something she can do. I have to remain positive. For her. For my mother. For everyone, even me.

The careers have collected their supplies, and have grouped together. They are now on the move to hunt down their next target, which I'm hoping is not Prim. Everyone knows there alliance won't last long. That's their tactic every year. They elmininate all the 'weaklings' and those who they can target and kill easily. Then they turn on eachother. That's where the real fun begins for them.

I understand they won't show Prim 100% of the time. They'll only show her if she's doing something interesting, in a fight, or just a quick shot to show she's still alive and her progress. My heart is pounding faster than ever. I wish I was there. To protect her. But, better yet, me in there instead of her.

Casear Flickerman shows up on screen sitting behind the desk. "Looks like 9 tributes are down already in the first few minutes of the game! I'm quite surprised! The two little girls from 11 and 12 are still alive and well... For now." Everyone knows he's talking about Prim and Rue. I hope for Rue too. She doesn't belong in there either. None of those people belong in there. They have...I mean had their whole lives ahead of them. And only one of them will actually live on. Prim. It has to be her. But I have to start to accept the fact that she has little chance of survival. She needs to know that too. She just needs to survive for as long as she can. It's possible.

Now everyone eyes are glued to the screen. Millions of them. Now, the real fun begins.

**Thanks everyone for reviewing! I've decided to keep going until the very end. :) Please review if you liked it! **


	7. Chapter 7

Something tells me I'm not going to sleep tonight. Or for several weeks. As long as these games go on. They've shown Prim a few times now. It's been a few hours. But nothing has been going on lately for her. Which is good. She's found refuge in a tall tree, with deep folage so no one can see her from below. I'm so happy she's unharmed. The careers have already taken care of another 6 tributes. 15 gone, just like that. It seems the careers this year are winning over fast. And the cameras are almost always on them. I've seen them get gifts. From sponsors. Food, supplies, and even good medicine and weapons. Just like it is every year. Now Prim is in the final 9.

I'm still sitting in front of the television. But my mother said she couldn't watch any longer, and went to bed.

"Looks like 15 tributes are down! And the two little girls are still hanging on!" Casear announces. I wonder why there is so much to be said about the 'two little girls'. "The careers are sure making their moves on the others. Sponsers, get your money in to support your favourite tribute!

Some already need your help!" Caesar continues. Yes. ALL the tributes need some kind of help. But not all of them will get help. Only the favourites. And I hope that Prim has sponsors. She needs help.

A brutal fight scene comes up. The careers again. Facing a girl, possibly around the age of 14. She looks like she's been doing well. She looks quite well-fed. Her jacket says the number 5. She's from District 5. Her redish orange hair stands out.

The brutal boy from District 2, who they refer to as Cato, makes the fight move with his knife. He must have got it off Clove, his District partner. The goes running towards the girl with the red hair. She eyes go wide with terror. She ducks and dodges, she's waiting for chance to run. But it's hard. Cato has backup. Skilled and bloodthirsty backup.

Clove gets impatient. "Ugh. Let me take care of her. She's mine." She says with a scowl. Opening her jacket, I see a glimpse of a large array of knives sitting there. Without thinking, she picks a few and grabs them in her hand. Red head starts to run. Clove takes a run up and throws her knifes, only for them to end up wedged in a nearby tree, as the girl with the red hair swirves around the tree. I've got to say; nice tactic. In training, Clove never missed. But nothing was in her way to getting a ten. Gamemakers said they considered giving her an eleven on that night of the reveals. I'm quite not really sure what to feel now. Glad she got away and spared her life? Or scared because Prim still has another opponent to face? My mind is racing with thoughts.

The camera still remains on the careers. No one is in a situation which Panem needs to see. They have set up in the Cornucopia. They've hoarded the remaining supplies no one got to. Imagine the HUGE advantage they have other the others! They have the experience, the training, the strength, and mostly all the supplies and weapons in the arena! No wonder someone that joins the careers usually wins the games. Usually. Not every year. A good tactic is to outsmart them, not to outfight them.

"Woah...that was quite close as it was! Wow!" Caesar says. "Just...mindblowing! Maybe the girl from 5 has a chance!"

Peeta Mellark then comes onto the screen. Seems like he hasn't made an alliance. Either he wants to work alone, which is understandable. Not having to trust anybody. Or maybe he wants an alliance but hasn't managed to establish one. Or met the right person to trust. Either way, he's doing pretty good on his own. But it's been several hours now. Usually after a few days, that's when people start to struggle with food and supplies and such.

"Katniss? Katniss!" My mother is now awake. It takes her a few times to yell at me until I come into focus. "Please, get some rest! You'll need it! You can't sit around watching that all the time!" She says sternly. But I refuse to go to sleep. I need to watch over Prim!

"You know, there's nothing you can do for her as of late or now. Now, for the last time, so get some rest!" She walks off. That's it. That's where she's wrong. There IS something I can do for Prim. Something that will probably make a huge difference between her life and death. But I can't do it alone, that's for sure. And I'm going to start tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

Today I will do something to help Prim. Something that will make a big difference. Something I can do to help. I can't help thanking my mother for the tip she unknowingly gave me.

I knock at Gale's door. He luckily answers so I don't have to ask for him.

"Hey Katniss." Gale greets me in a welcoming tone. He's trying to help me get through these tough times. I can't thank him enough for his support.

"What ever happened to Catnip?" I say jokingly without a smile. I just tilt me head slightly, to let him know I'm kidding. He just shrugs.

"Nothing."

"Hey. Listen. I need your help." I say straight forward.

"With what?"

"Well...I need you to help me get sponsers for Prim. We can ask around. Anything will help." I answer back.

"Katniss...we can't go around asking for money. It's not right." He says.

"What isn't right? Trying to help me sister come home? Trying to save her life? What is wrong with that?" I yell at him. Tears are running down my cheeks. "She NEEDS to come home!"

"I'm...I'm sorry Katniss. I'll..help you get sponsers for her."

"Thank you." I say in between sniffles.

"So..we try to gather some money for Prim? Like a collection?"

"Yeah, something like that. I guess."

"I suggest we go to the hob. We know most of the people there. Maybe we can get some friends to help out." That's perfect! I nod, and we walk off in the direction of the hob. Maybe Darius or Greasy Sae can help us out! As we walk, he stops.

"What Gale?" I ask.

"Nothing...I just want to ask how your coping. You know, with Prim. I wish I could volunteer for her. If they did let you volunteer, everything would be a mess! Ugh, I hate the games!" Gale says.

"Everything will be fine. Let's just go." I say as I try to put on a smile. It hurts to smile. Prim needs help, and we'll give that to her.

We arrive at the hob. Everyone is still dealing since it's early in the morning. I spot Greasy Sae selling her products at a table in the far corner. In her usual place. I rush over to her.

"Hello. Err..." I hesitate. I've known her for so long, but I've never really asked her for a huge favour such as this. Will she reject? But Prim. I would do anything. "Gale and I need your help. We want to start off, you know, a collection to help Prim in the games. I'd donate myself, but I...none of us have the money. Let alone anything to give." I continue. I hold my breath. But not in an obvious way that anyone would see.

"Ahh...that's where YOU are wrong!" She says. Wrong with what? Is there really something I can give? "You and Gale can hunt and gather. Set up a stall here with supplies you have hunted and gathered, and use the money to send off to the Capitol for the games!" The Capitol better be honest with our money. With anyone's money. But they are not really honest about anythig really. But this is the only thing I can do right now.

"So you'll help? You really mean it?" I say in reply.

"Of course! We can even say who it's for!" I am eternally grateful.

"Thank you. So much."

"It's settled then. We'll start tomorrow!" She implys.

"No. No. We have to start today!" There I go. I've snapped again. "I'm sorry. I've just been a little on edge right now." She just nods. But as I turn away, she adds something else."Go hunt now. We'll start today." I turn back and smile. She then goes to set up another stall for us. I fast walk and grab Gale's arm.

"Let's go. We're going hunting." I explain breifly.

"Oh okay...but what about the collection?"

"This Is aboutthe collection. To sell stuff to get the money. I know..usually the hob is for trading, but we need money, Gale."

"Okay. Let's go." He simply states. And we're off into the woods.

In a few mere minutes of running, we arrive at the woods. The only place I feel safe now. Wait. Scratch that. Prim is in the arena. And this year, it's the woods. Now I feel different here. It will never be the same. Even if Prim does make it through.

For the next few hours, we gather up squirrels, wood rats, and even a few deer. Along with a few basketfulls of berries and mint leaves, we leave to sell them back at the hob. I remind myself to tell customers that they are fresh game, only hunted just then. Maybe we'll get more money for that. I hope. The more, the better off Prim is. If this is unsucessfull, I pray that some other people in Panem sponsor her, too.

For the second time, we aerive at the hob. There are more people here now. It's always the busiest at the peak of lunch. Which makes this the perfect time. I gaze over to where Greasy Sae was setting up the stall. I'm breathless. I mean, it's not the best thing ever, it's just that the work she must have put so much effort to help me. No, to help Prim. And I can't thank Gale enough too. He could have spent his day elsewhere. But he chose to help me. And so did Greasy Sae.

The stall is just plain and simple. The table Greasy Sae used was out her own home, and a banner has been drawn.

'HELP SUPPORT PRIMROSE EVERDEEN IN THE GAMES!' It read.

Wow. Now we can really make a difference. Something I can do I feel different from the girl who said she can do nothing on reaping day.


	9. Chapter 9

Gale, Greasy Sae and I are selling our products at the hob now. I really feel we are doing well. With half our products gone, there are still more customers coming to our stall to buy. I feel more alive than I have in days. I'm actually doing somthing instead of actually just sitting there.

"Hello. That basket of berries right there..it's all fresh...right?" A lady asks. Since I was packing empty boxes away, I look up. Her eyes are a blue colour. It's uncanny...she reminds me so much of Prim, with her blue eyes and blonde hair. She doesn't look like she lives here, since she looks too well-groomed and her dress is made of pure cotton. I don't know what to think. It reminds me how much I miss Prim. So much. I hope, in my heart, she'll come home. But I keep, over and over, reminding myself that theres a huge chance that she'll die in that arena, at the hands of the Capitol.  
"Yes, they are fresh. We picked them just a few hours ago." I reply to the women. She forms a slight smile and says, "I'll take two baskets." She hands me a handful of coins, grabs the baskets and walks away. I stare down at my hand. She overpayed by...I don't know how much! Surely no one from the Seam could afford to pay this money.  
"Miss!" I yell. But it's too late. She's gone. Was it even a mistake? Did she want to donate extra?

But then a see it. A parchment square piece of paper. Right under the coins. I tilt my hand over the table to empty the coins from my hand, and examine the paper closely. The paper was stained yellow, with the edges quite frayed and black, just as if it had been burnt, but I then look closer and it's just ordinary dirt and dust. I carefully open the paper, peeling the seal off the front. It has a little mockingjay bird engraved in the wax. And it's not just paper. It's a note. I can't help but to start reading it. Was it supposed to be for me?

_Katniss, I know it's been hard for you. I hope you find it in your heart, that Primrose will always be with you- no matter what happens.___

_Believe it or not, I know what you are going through. I went through similar times. Although I don't know about your sisterly relationship with Primrose, or worrying about the Hunger Games. I never had to. Let's just say... I don't need to. You really demonstrated on reaping day, even right at this minute, that you love your little sister very much.___

_I hope you accept my gift. I'm sure Primrose will be ever so happy to recieve some gifts from sponsers such as you and me. Yes, I signed up to sponser Primrose for you. It's the least I can do for you who live in District twelve.___

_Again, I hope you can find your way through these tough times. Your mother, please say hello to her for me. Your father, too.___

_Sincerely, F.L._

My jaw drops. So many thoughts are running through my head. What does she mean by not having to worry about the games? All the districts worry. Even those who are too old to be reaped, for the fear of losing their children. Or for their friends. And my father? His dead. I can't believe shes sponsering Prim! But how can she even afford this? Maybe she's from District 1 or 2. But...she did say she didn't have to worry about the games. And say hello to my mother? Who is this lady?

"Gale?" I yell for him to come over.  
"What's wrong? Are you okay? What?" Glae walks towards me and asks. His voice is worried. He's been worried for me for the past few days  
"This note..." I say as I hand it to him. He reads it, and he is stunned. "Who's F.L.? And where does she get the money to even sponser Prim?" Gale sounds more calm now.  
"I don't know...but she gave me more than triple what she should have paid for two baskets of berries." I reply. His jaw drops too. He can't believe it either. But his eyes light up, and he realises something.  
"The Capitol..." He says under his breath.  
"What? No way she can be from the Capitol." I say.  
"Yeah! But, the money, not worrying about the games..." He trails off but starts again. "Admit it. You think it too."  
"I guess. She didn't look like she lived here. I mean, she was too well-groomed. But, if she was, what would she be doing here, anyway?" I reply.  
"I don't know, Katniss. I honestly don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

Turning Tables – Chapter 10

After being sold out of items at the hob, I make my way home once again. Gale offered to send the money over to the Justice Building to send over to the Capitol. I have a feeling in my mind that I need to ask my mother who this person is. Who wrote this note. I miss Prim so much. I hope Prim has survived while I have been gone to get her sponser money. Please help her to survive. Someone. Anyone.

When I arrive home, my mother is sitting in front of the television. As everyone in Panem is doing at the moment. Her eyes are glued to the screen. I follow her gaze. Prim is on camera. I quietly sit beside her and place my head on both my arms and watch. Watching ever so closely. Because of the fact that Prim is still alive.

"Still alive!" I say to myself. She's found refuge in a tall tree. But I watch closer as the camera zooms into her face. She looks...broken. Her hair is all a mess, mud covers every inch of her. Her face is almost unrecognisable. Oh Prim. She's been struggling. The only two things I can be glad about is the money we raised for her, and that she's still alive. But not well. Not alive and well. Just alive. I start to have tears stream down my face again. I can't bare to see her this broken. Never.

But there's one other thing I notice. She's crying, too. She sits there with her back against the trunk of the tree. I hope none of the other tributes are nearby. But I can tell she hasn't been in a fight. Yet. But, her face suddenly lights up. A package is coming down for her in a meduim-sized silver container, attached to a parachute. A gift from her sponsers. It's up to the Capitol sponsers to vote on what to give tributes. I wonder what helpful item she got. I haven't see that face in a while now. And it's because of me. And Gale, and Greasy Sae. The money we raised has gone towards this. Helping her survive. At least for as long as we can.

Gale once told me that money gets sent to the Capitol in a flash. Since it's lighter than people, you send it through a tube and it gets sorted into the collections for each tribute. Prim rips off the parachute and opens the box eagerly. Her lips form a smile. Packages of food, a bottle of clear, fresh water, and a empty bag. As she pulls the bag out, a small slip of paper falls out into her lap. 'Stay hangin. – Haymitch.' Haymitch is her mentor. Or was, anyway. Prim takes a few small sips and a few bits of dried fruits and nuts that came in the food packages. She says a small thank you up into the sky. What she doesn't know is that is where the camera is. So she's looking right at the camera as she says it. And I smile once again. Alot of smiles in one day. But no more. I guess that really is all we can do for her. I wish there could be more. More is better. But there was something we could do, and that was to gie her that food and water. But now, she'll have to fend for herself. I don't know how she'll cope, but I know she can do it.

I'm desperate for her to come home.


	11. Chapter 11

"Mother?" I turn too her. Her eyes are puffy red and her breathing is limited to short inhaling. Just like me. But I have to ask her about this note.

"Yes?" She says as she looks at me directly. "Something you need?"

"This note...who is F.L.?"

"F.L?" She asks. Her face looks confused. I hand her the note, and she reads it. "I can't believe she came back..."

"Who? Who is she?"

"Where did you get this note? Who gave it to you?"

"A lady...with long blonde hair, blue eyes...bu-" I say. But she cuts me off.

"Ferne Loeve?" She gasps.

"WHO?" I snap. I need to know who this person is!

"Ferne Loeve. She used to know me when you were young, possibly when you were about 2. She moved to the Capitol just before you turned 3. I was best friends with her until she left." She replies, her voice low as she tries to remember.

"Why'd she go to the Capitol? You're not allowed to move to the Capitol from the Districts. Right?" I ask. I'm so confused. Why move to the Capitol? How did she even get to move their, especially from District twelve? I've never heard of anyone who has one that before.

"That's right. But this is different. She was forced to."Her eyes look down at the ground. There's some unfinished business.

"What for?"

"No one knows. One day, she just packed up and left. I never saw her again."


	12. Chapter 12

36 hours. 36 dreadful hours I was so confident I would never have to go through. 36 hours of no sleep, no rest, nothing. Just sitting here. Watching Prim. Watching over her, hoping she gets home.

I turn to my mother. She's been sitting with me this entire time. Every minute. Her eyes widen, and at the corner of my eye, I see a chase. The careers have found another target. Everything is a blur. Trees, tributes, dirt. 3 things. The target is running for her life, her hair flowing behind her. Another thing. Her hair is blonde. Then my eyes finally accept who that target is. I feel sniffles and tears welling up in my eyes. 'This can't be. No. Never. Why!' That's it. I can't hold it in anymore. The tears sting my eyes intensely and I can't find anything to live for anymore. But I accept the fact. The fact that the careers next target is Prim. "NO!" I scream. I jump to my feet, but then I stop. I don't know what to do next. I...can't do anything else. I've done the most I can to save her. I slump down into the seat and press on.

Prim is still running. So are the careers, because once they have a target, they won't stop until they're gone. Out of the game. One word – dead. Clove, with a handful of knives, aims carelessly and throws in Prim's direction. Clove versus Prim? No way. She has no chance. 'PRIM!" I start hyperventilating. Through the glaze of tears still present in my eyes, I see red. Red, the deep, deep red that is the colour of...of...blood. Prim has been hit! They close up on her, and she stops running and drops to the ground. She's given up. She believes she can't make it through any longer. The careers catch on.

"Seriously? I wasn't even trying!" Clove says mockingly with a smirk as she looms over Prim. Cato just grunts. This never was meant to be. I should be in there. It just can't end this way. Clove lets her honors die with Prim. With one stab, she's gone. The cannon blasts.

"NEVER! WHY? THIS IS...UGH!" I say and storm out the room. I just run out the door. With one last scream, I head for the woods.

**I'm so sorry about the wait. And the sloppy chapters. This story wasn't my best. At all. The worst. Haha. I may not write on here for a while, maybe, after I finish the rest of this story. :) **


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